Good Enough
by Laura Schiller
Summary: After the fistfight, Chelsea calls David to check if he's okay and to assure him that Laurel is safe. Spoilers for "Illusions".


Good Enough

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Wings/Spells/Illusions

Copyright: Aprilynne Pike

David hadn't set eyes on Laurel since the moment she'd broken up the fight between him and Tamani. _You want me to choose? Fine!_ she'd snapped. _I choose to walk away from both of you!_ Then she'd literally done just that, climbed into her car and disappeared. She could be anywhere by now – the park, the land near Orick … kidnapped by trolls …

David raked his hands through his hair and leaned both elbows on his reading desk, staring vacantly down at a biology textbook he'd been trying to read for the past half hour. He couldn't concentrate now if his life depended on it. _Laurel_ …

When his cell phone rang from his backpack, he lunged for it at once. The caller I.D. read "Chelsea".

"Hello?" he barked.

"Hi, David … " The bright, brash voice of his oldest friend was much softer than usual. "I, um, I just called to say it's okay. Laurel's safe."

An enormous sigh of relief escaped him as he slumped into the chair. No trolls.

"Thank God!"

"Yeah … she's back – I mean at her place, with her parents."

"Back at her – so where was she?" asked David. Something about Chelsea's voice sounded suspicious, as if she was hiding something.

She cleared her throat. "Oh … I dunno."

"Come on, Chels. You're the worst liar I know."

He was mostly joking; he didn't really mean to pressure her into telling any secrets of Laurel's, but when the incurably honest girl heard that, it must have been a little too much for her.

"She was at the land," Chelsea blurted out. "And Tamani followed her … she didn't want him to, but she didn't make him leave either …"

David gritted his teeth. Trust that faerie boy to push himself in at every opportunity.

" … and I asked her if they're a couple now, and she was like, 'I don't know, maybe?' and then she said she's not looking for a boyfriend now, she just needs time and space to figure out what she wants, and I'm so sorry, David. I'm so, so sorry … David? Are you still there?"

He couldn't speak for the painful, inconvenient lump in his throat that had formed at the sound of Chelsea's _maybe_. Not unless he wanted to embarrass both of them by crying over the phone. He blinked hard, took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

"Still here."

She sighed. He could picture her as clearly as if she were here in the room, winding a glossy brown curl around her finger as she held the phone with her other hand, watching him with huge, anxious gray eyes.

"I hate to say this," she said after another long silence, "But she is _so_ not good enough for you."

"_Chelsea._" His defensive reaction was automatic; not even the break-up could change that. "She's your friend!"

"I know!" The pain in her voice was evident, making him wonder if his own feelings were that obvious to her. "I like her, really I do. But she just … she sucks at making hard decisions. Just like me. She's been putting off having to choose between you and Tam for so long, and now everything's a mess. You deserve better, David. You should find someone – "

She paused in what sounded like the middle of her sentence.

"Someone?" David prodded.

"Someone who's _all_ yours," she concluded, with another sigh and a strange little laugh. "You know, as opposed to half yours and half someone else's. There's got to be a girl like that _somewhere_."

"I won't hold my breath," he muttered.

For reasons he did not care to guess at, an image of Chelsea in her black lace bra came to mind, as he had seen her on the night they'd run into those trolls. Chelsea had taken off her shirt to bandage Yuki's head (and to conceal the fact that Yuki was bleeding sap) and seeing his old friend's womanly curves revealed like that had thrown him for a loop. She'd always been that loud-mouthed, skinny little thing who played soccer with him and competed with him for exam scores; he'd never stopped to think of her as a _girl_.

_She's Ryan's girl,_ he reminded himself irritably. _I shouldn't even be thinking this. And even if she weren't, I still love Laurel … I can't give up on her as easily as that._

"But thanks, Chelsea," he added, to reassure her. "I appreciate the sentiment."

"Yeah, well." She brightened up a bit; he could almost hear her shrugging off her concerns like a heavy backpack. "What are friends for, eh?"

_Friends. Right._

"See you tomorrow, Chels. Oh, and at the lit quiz tomorrow? Watch out, 'cause I'm gonna kick your butt."

She giggled, and he felt lighter than he had all day. "We'll see about that, mister. Goodnight."

He ended the call and looked down at the phone in his hand a while longer, an absent smile on his face, half regretful and half relieved for the things he'd left unsaid.

_Ryan's not nearly good enough for you, Chelsea … and by the way, you're beautiful in black lace._


End file.
